


You Can Go Anywhere You Wish (Cause I’ll be There)

by hanekawa



Category: Kamen Rider W | Masked Rider Double
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanekawa/pseuds/hanekawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series. At first, Fang was created as Raito’s playmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Go Anywhere You Wish (Cause I’ll be There)

.

.

.

“Your name is Fang.” He told the Fang Memory. “You have but one order: stay by my side.”

*

At first, Fang was nothing more than an ordinary Gaia Memory stick, given to him by a strange lady in a black coat and a wide hat that covered her face.

 _Who are you?_ He wanted to ask but dared not to. _Who are you?_

“Raito,” the lady said, placing the Memory Stick onto his small hand, “this is Fang Memory. Fang Memory is yours and yours only, so don’t let them take it away from you. This is the one thing that’s gonna—protect you, always. Try not to lose it, okay?”

He stared at the Memory, but the Memory didn’t seem like it was staring back at him. He looked up at the strange lady instead. “How is it going to protect me if it couldn’t even do anything?”

“Just wait,” the lady said, her hand pressed against his cheek, “until the time is right. Just wait.”

She held on for a while, crouching in front of him, and as her hands cup his face, he could see the bandages covering her face, almost like—

“Shroud.” He suddenly said.

“…shroud?”

He nodded. “It’s an English word, another way to say ‘cover’ or ‘hide’—I just stumbled upon this word the other day!” he beamed proudly. And then he tilted his head to the side, “Why did you hide your face behind the bandages?”

She patted the top of his head. “Raito is a good boy, isn’t he?” the lady said, enveloping him in a hug. “Just hold on for a while, okay? I’ll come back and get you out of here.”

He blinked, real slow. “Raito? Why—do you keep calling me that?”

A sharp intake of breath, and the hug tightened.

“Lady?” there was a curious note to his voice, he realized. He wanted to know why this lady—someone he saw for the first time—freely (voluntarily) touched him, while the people he always saw in this place could barely stand him; they were always wary, for some reason. And always, always careful to keep their distance.

Just then, the alarm sounded—all loud and clear and terribly horrifying, because someone always disappeared when the alarm was sounded.

The lady pulled away, and for a moment, she just stared at him.

He really wished the lady wasn’t wearing dark glasses, since he couldn’t see her eyes, and how should he read her if her whole face was covered?

“Raito, just hang in there for a little more time, okay?” the lady said, and he could feel her hand tremble as it caressed his face. “I promise—I promise I’ll come back for you soon.” She kissed his forehead, and added, “goodbye, Raito. I love you.”

And then she got up and disappeared in a flurry of dark coat – just barely missing the entrance of the security guards.

Later, when they asked him about the person who had just visited him (the intruder, they said in whispers), he told them the truth: that it was a lady with flowing dark hair, whose face was shrouded in bandages. “Shroud,” he had called her, and they seemed to take his impromptu nickname for her as her _real_ alias, and after that—

After that, the name just kind of stuck.

 _I promise I’ll come back for you soon._ She had told him.

He waited, but she never did. Come back, that was.

 _Liar,_ he thought. _Liar._

And then he went back to the lab and proceeded to design a Gaia Memory with that exact ability, the one to fill the slot of the letter L.

\--all the while, the Fang Memory weighed heavily inside his pocket.

*

As a general rule, the staff always kept their distance from him. No touching unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, it was always tinted with a certain careful wariness that he couldn’t place.

The only exception to this rule seemed to be an old man with short graying hair in glasses, whom others in the facility always treated with respect _(fear)_. The old man always had a smile ready for him, even if along with time, the smile started to become superficial – just as the old man’s visits started to become rarer.

“Can I go outside?” once, just once, he had asked the old man.

“But why would you want to?” the old man had said, patting his head. “The outside world is just a filthy place with polluted air and even more polluted humans. Why would you want to dirty yourself by going outside?”

“But _you_ go outside. As well as the other people here. So why shouldn’t I?”

At that, the old man lifted him by his waist, and sat him down on the table—so that they were at eye-level. “Because unlike you, we’re all already filthy. That’s why we need the Gaia Memories to purify us.”

He touched his lip with a finger, just barely shy of biting it. “Does that mean once everybody already had a Gaia Memory, I’d be able to go outside?”

“Of course.” The old man smiled. “You’re really a smart kid, aren’t you? The sooner you completed the Gaia Memory research, the sooner this world could get purified. Which, of course, would mean the sooner also you could go outside.”

“Okay.” He told the old man. “Then I’ll try to complete it as soon as possible!”

For a moment, the old man just looked at him, this strange expression on his face. Then the old man lifted his hand, and—

“Sonozaki-sama, please excuse me,” a staff cut in, bringing with him a stack of papers, “about the test subject of the last—“

The old man’s hand, that was suspended in mid-air, suddenly moved again, gesturing to the staff to follow him—like it was never suspended at all.

He could only watch as they both left the area, the staff still talking in fast succession while the old man just listening along.

And then he lifted his own small hand, and let it fall on the top of his head. Brushing his hair with his hand, he tried to remember the feeling of the old man’s hands as he lifted him earlier.

For a second—just for a second, before the movement was aborted—he was sure the old man was about to pat his head.

Ah.

He looked down at his hands, his feet dangled from the table, not quite tall enough to reach the floor. What was this feeling called, again? This feeling, that made him rather…empty? Suffocated?

 _(please don’t leave--)_

He should probably look it up in the Planetary Bookshelf, but. But if he couldn’t even describe the symptoms, then how could he find the right keywords?

So he designed another Gaia Memory instead. The one with the ability to mimic, to imitate any ability or appearance down to the smallest details—including the ability to imitate feelings—without the need to _understand._

A Dummy.

This time, when his hand sought the-now-familiar weight of Fang Memory inside his pocket, it lingered.

*

With only artificial lights illuminating it, the facility was always dark—whether it was night or day—and the only way to tell time was by the watches the staff here never failed to wear.

They told the time by looking at their watches; _he_ told the time by the number of staff still remained on site. The facility might burst in activity during the day, with people milling about, but during the night, the staff number always reduced by half, and they just left him alone unsupervised. Mostly. Especially when he had just produced a new Gaia Memory—they would be too busy researching and testing it to give him any mind.

It was at such time he let himself examine the Fang Memory.

Fang Memory was…strange; different from all the other Memories he’d designed, and not only from the physical appearance. It was… cleaner, perhaps. More refined, although not by much. But over all, it was like…the purified version of his Gaia Memories. All the same power, except without the toxin he still couldn’t get rid off of the Gaia Memories he produced.

He wondered if the lady made this Memory herself.

 _This is the one thing that’s gonna—protect you, always._ The lady had said.

But—how? Without a user, this Memory was just like any other Gaia Memories— _useless._

Unless—

Turning his head to the glass case, he stared at the newly-finished T-Rex Memory on the display. He had made it in such a way so that when the user reached certain level, the Memory would unlock its hidden ability: the access to a true T-Rex potential powers.

But once the user started to surpass even _that_ level, the Memory would become overwhelming, and started taking control of the user instead.

He blinked, real slow, and started to think it over in his head.

A Memory which had its own free will.

He stood up so fast he got dizzy—and not only from the sudden rush of blood running to his head. What was this feeling—this giddy feeling, making him want to jump up and down and do crazy things; this feeling, that put a grin on his face so wide it nearly split his face in two.

 _Excitement._

He was excited, he thought.

Without wasting another second, he rushed back into the lab, Fang Memory firmly in hand.

*

One day, he overheard some staff talking about their ‘family’.

Hearing such a foreign word, he got so curious he spent hours in the Planetary Bookshelf just to research that single word. What he got from there—

It was certainly interesting, the concept of ‘family’.

“Could you tell me my name?” he asked the old man.

The old man looked a little startled. “…a name?”

“Something I could identify myself with.” He nodded to himself.

“But why would you,” the old man said, looking genuinely puzzled, “want to limit yourself to a single name, when you could be anything and everything you could ever wish?”

He tilted his head to the side. “But I couldn’t look up my family if I didn’t have a name.”

The light glinted off of the old man’s glasses, effectively shielding his eyes for a precious moment. “You’re special.” The old man said, his voice sounding rather strange. “Someone as special as you doesn’t need a family. They would only be a hindrance to you, anyway. Do forget such a trivial matter.”

The old man left then, hands firmly clasped behind his back, almost as if to prevent himself from—

Again, he watched him leave.

Again, he felt that strange feeling, the one that made him want to reach out and—

 _(please don’t go away—)_

It wasn’t a nice—feeling; he didn’t think he would ever want to experience such a feeling again.

(After that, he never saw those staff he had overheard ever again, for some reason. When he asked the other staff, their only reply was, “they’re no longer here.”

He also didn’t fail to notice the wider berth the staff had given him, ever since that day. The way their distance told him _stay away!_ without any word being said.)

It was. He was—

It was then he started to learn not to care.

*

“Your name is Fang.” He told the newly activated blue-colored miniature dinosaur thingy. “You have but one order: stay by my side.” _Please._

The thing—Fang, _his_ name was Fang—let out a strange sounding grunt, like a cross between a roar and a squeal.

He couldn’t help it—he _laughed._

“Think your voice box mechanism needs to get fixed?” he asked Fang, smiling. “Other than your voice, you turned out okay—for an unplanned prototype.”

Again, Fang let out that strange grunt. Although this time, it was accompanied by a series of blinking lights from his head.

“You can understand my words, right?” he asked. “I mean, I did insert an Artificial Intelligence program in your mainframe, after all. Hmm… blink twice if you could understand my word!”

Fang’s head blinked once. And then once more.

He smiled happily. “Blink once if you want your voice box fixed, and thrice if you prefer it as it is!”

Three successions of red-light-blink immediately appeared on Fang’s head.

He clapped his hands excitedly. “Wow! I know I designed you myself, but I never really thought it would really work! You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Fang?” he reached out, his hand nearly touching Fang’s small head—

He hesitated.

“Hey, Fang, can I touch you?” he asked, voice small, his hand still hovering above Fang’s head.

Fang let out another grunt, and from the high tone at the end, it sounded like an inquiry.

“I was the one who created you, so of course I’ve touched you before, but. But now that you’ve got a fully functional AI, you could, you know. Refuse me. If you wanted.” _Just like all the people here._

The only two people who had allowed themselves to touch him was the bandaged lady _(liar)_ and the old man _(who kept going away)_.

 _Please don’t leave me—_

For a moment, it felt as though Fang was only staring at him, unblinking. He _knew_ Fang was staring at him, because Fang’s tail was moving up and down, just like his little paws flexed themselves, but Fang’s head— _Fang’s head was unmoving_. It stayed in place, and if Fang had a face, he would probably be staring at it right about now.

And then Fang lowered his little head, and—

\--bit him.

Surprised, he could do nothing but watch, wide-eyed, as Fang’s mouth closed in on his right forefinger, and held on.

“F-Fang! Ow! Let go! That hurts!” he tried shaking his hand, but Fang kept on holding. For a small little thing, Fang sure was strong. “Ow! Are you planning to take off my finger? Fang!” he used his left hand to pull Fang off, but still Fang latched onto his finger, and. And then Fang let out a loud scream.

He blinked. “…What?”

Fang gestured his little head to the back, and. And as he followed Fang’s line of sight, he realized he was now _holding onto Fang’s little body with both hands._

He blinked again.

A successions of red light blinked on Fang’s head. He could swear at the time, Fang was saying, _Now, is that so hard?_

“No,” he agreed, feeling his lips quiver just the tiniest bit. “No, that’s not hard at all.”

 _drip_

“Eh?” he blinked. Felt the wetness on his cheeks. “Eh?” he lifted a hand. Swiped at his cheeks. It—

It came away wet.

Fang let out a low grunt.

“Ah. I see. This is—“ he stared at his wet hand, “—tears. Drops of clear salty solution secreted by lachrymal glands, released to clear the eyes, or. Or as the consequence of overwhelming emotions, particularly when someone is—when someone is—“

He let out a choked sound, something close to a sob.

Fang jumped to his shoulder, and started nuzzling his neck.

“Does this tears mean I’m sad?” he wiped his eyes; again, his hand came away wet. “Is this what sadness felt like?”

Fang nipped his earlobe.

He laughed again—even as the tears kept on falling. “No? Oh right. Tears also came as consequence of overwhelming emotions--particularly when someone is sad, or. Or happy.” He blinked rapidly. “I see. You don’t think I’m sad, so. So you think this is happy tears?”

Fang gave out a series of blinking lights.

“Hmm. If you think so, then it must be right. I designed you to be smart, after all.” He tried to smile, but still the tears kept on falling. “If I’m happy right now, why—“ he tried to inhale. Exhale. Repeat. “Why am I happy? I mean, I never feel particularly happy when I managed to create a new Gaia Memory before…”

Fang nipped his earlobe. Again.

“…what are you—ow!”

Fang slapped him. With his small tail.

Which was just… _ow._

“Fang, you may be small, but you’re still made of metal, you know. It _hurts_.” He told Fang sternly—or tried to, anyway, since he was interrupted by a sob.

Fang only tapped his small leg impatiently, his little head moving this way and that way, almost like he was trying to gesture between him and—

Ah.

“Are you,” he wiped his face once more, blinking rapidly at Fang, “saying you’re here to—to stay?”

Fang nuzzled his neck again. _Yes._

Humans lied. Dopants lied too, but then, Dopants were originally humans, right? But animals—and machines—they didn’t have the capability to lie. And therefore—

 _I’ll come back for you soon._ The lady had said.

She never did.

 _You’re special._ The old man had said.

If I wasn’t special, would you have stayed? Would you have patted my head, that first time?

He blinked again.

Fang kept flashing him red lights, his little head swayed this way and that, almost as if he was trying a way to—

To comfort him.

Fang.

 _This is the one thing that’s gonna—protect you, always._

That was why he created this extension body for Fang Memory, wasn’t it? So that the lady’s statement would not be a lie, so that there would always be someone by his side, so that he would never, ever be—

Alone.

Again.

“You’re mine, and mine only—aren’t you, Fang?” he said, looking right at where Fang’s face would be if Fang had one. “You’re really. I mean, you’re really never gonna leave me, right? No matter what happens?”

Fang let out a soft growl. _Affirmative._

“Thank you.” He laughed. And the tears began anew.

Fang looked a little frantic, judging from the fast succession of the red light he blinked out.

“No, Fang. I’m alright.” He told Fang, still laughing, still crying, and this time, he didn’t bother to wipe the tears. “I guess this time, the tears are _really_ happy tears.”

Fang nuzzled his neck as a response.

“Yosh, yosh.” He patted Fang’s little head with a finger, and then held out the finger to Fang. “Shake on it?”

Fang stared at his finger. And then immediately put his own little (sharp!) claw on top of the finger.

He stared at where his finger and Fang’s claw joined. Huh.

“Think your claws need trimming?”

Fang bit his finger as a reply.

*

“There seems to be,” the old man said, “a little… _pest_ running around the place lately. At least according to the security guards. Would you happen to know something about it?”

He stared at the old man, unblinking.

“His name is Fang.” He told the old man. “The shrouded lady said he’s going to protect me, always.” Well, _he_ was the one who made Fang able to move about, but that was so not the point.

There was a wary smile on the old man’s face. “I see. Shroud, eh? Persistent woman, that one is.” Then the old man looked at him, in that strange way he didn’t know to read. “I guess it’s time we call that Neurologist again.”

“Neuro—“ he tried out that new word, “neurolo—neurologist?”

“You don’t worry about it;” the old man said. “You won’t remember it, after all.”

It was the last time he would ever see the old man again.

*

What he had found when he looked up the word ‘neurologist’ and ‘remember’ didn’t make him stop worrying. Instead, it made him worry _more_.

“Fang, Fang, Fang. Your name is Fang.” He tried out the name. “It must be nice to have a name; to have something that set you apart from everything else.”

Fang grunted softly at him.

“Hey Fang,” he dropped down to his hands and knees, crouching in front of Fang, “that lady called me ‘Raito’. Several times. Do you think maybe—just maybe—it was my name? Raito?” _Raito._ He rolled out the name on his tongue, tasting it. It didn’t feel so bad.

Fang let out another soft grunt.

“I looked it up, but there were _waaaay_ too many results for that name. Even when I had filtered it with my approximate age.” He sighed. “I really wish I knew my own full name. I mean, I surely had one, right?”

Fang nuzzled his palm.

He smiled. “You’re right. I really shouldn’t give up.” He nuzzled Fang’s little head with his forehead. “So. For the time being, think it’s okay for me to use ‘Raito’ as my momentary name? So that we both each had a name?”

Fang blinked red lights at him.

 _Neurologist._

He didn’t much like what that particular word entailed.

\--even if the idea itself was rather…intriguing.

“Hey, even if I forgot you, you won’t leave me, right?” he asked desperately in a rush. “I mean, you’re mine and mine only, right? So you’d always be by my side, right? Even if I couldn’t remember you?”

Fang stared at him.

And then bit his nose.

 _Ow._ “…what?”

A series of light-blinks, followed by paw-stomping and head-shaking. It was almost as if Fang was saying, _We’ve been through this, you stupid child._

“Right.” He said, rubbing his nose. “Just want to make sure, mind.”

Fang turned his head in such a way that if machines could breathe, Fang was probably _huffing_ right now.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry I’ve doubted you.”

Another series of light-blinks and paw-stomping.

“Yes, I’d never repeat it again. Promise!” he clapped his hands together once, and then held out a hand to Fang with an apologetic smile.

Fang looked rather doubtful, but. But he still came and nuzzled his little head on (Raito)’s palm, so apparently all was forgiven.

Huh. It really did feel nice to call himself by something other than pronoun ‘he’ in his own head.

“But Fang, you really do like biting things, don’t you?”

Fang bit his finger in response.

*

And then the Neurologist really did come, and everything shattered.

“Hello there.” The neurologist said. “Do you remember me?”

 _No._

“We’ve met once before. My name is—“

Just like the old man, he also wore glasses. But unlike the old man, there was nothing even slightly warm in his smile. His smile didn’t even _pretend_ to be warm. It was excited, but in the ways (Raito) wasn’t comfortable with.

But still the neurologist kept on smiling. “I’m going to take a look at you again, so let’s be friends!”

Right. As if (Raito) had any other choice.

“Don’t take away my name.” (Raito) told him. “I’m still trying to get used to it, so please don’t take it away.”

“Of course.” The neurologist said.

He lied.

*

Sometimes, in the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw a blue-colored thing; but every time he tried to look closer, the thing always disappeared.

Every. Single. Time.

He started to wonder if maybe he just imagined it, because—because he wished there was somebody who was always there for him, waiting; waiting for him to—call it; waiting for him to beckon it closer; waiting for him to—

Waiting for him to realize it was _always, always_ there. For him.

If only—

He shook his head. Told himself to stop imagining things.

He was always alone, after all.

*

In the shadows, Fang watched, and waited—patiently.

\-- _always._

.

.

Fin.


End file.
